


From Nothing, To Nowhere

by Drama_Monarch



Category: Far Cry (Video Games), Far Cry 3, Far Cry 4
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, M/M, Minor Character Death, Post-Canon, ajay and jason have a shitty adventure, possible future relationships, takes place around Far Cry 5
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-09
Updated: 2018-05-19
Packaged: 2019-05-04 14:20:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14594868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drama_Monarch/pseuds/Drama_Monarch
Summary: Ajay left Kyrat as soon as Pagan Min departed. Sabal was the leader of the Golden Path and Amita was exiled. Ajay never bothered to check in with Sabal afterwards, which in hindsight was a mistake. He heads back to the states to become a journalist (you know, one of the ones who jumps into danger at every given opportunity) and meets fellow journalist, and adrenaline junkie, Jason Brody. Four years after the events of Far Cry 4, Ajay returns to Kyrat with Jason in tow to do a report on the progress of Kyrat's recovery. Things aren't how he expected them to be.





	1. Blood-Red Sunrise

They arrived in Kyrat at dawn. The sun rose slowly over the mountains, dusting everything with a beautiful shade of gold. A lone bus rattles along a dirt road.

“Are you sure about this?” One of the two passengers on the bus looks up from his phone at his companion. The sun warms the back of his neck and he glances over his shoulder to get a good look at the view. A grin breaks out across his face and he raises his phone to snap a photo. Obviously, his Twitter followers will love this shot. Besides, they’d want to know they made it to the country alright, anyways. He sits back down and prepares the tweet to send. The morning light radiates off of him, almost giving him a bit of a glow. 

His companion, Ajay, raises a hand to shield his eyes from the bright sun and grimaces. He furrows his dark brows and just looks down at the floor of the bus to try and avoid it. A sigh escapes his lips. He really isn’t sure, but he’s not about to admit it to Jason of all people. They had been working together as journalists for almost three years now, but there was just something about Jason that he couldn’t quite place. Something hidden under that spoiled rich kid hide of his. It doesn’t make Ajay uneasy. He has things he hides as well. He knows nothing of Jason's past, and Jason knows nothing of his. He just doesn’t trust Jason enough to be vulnerable in front of him. He idly plucks at a bit of loose stitching on one of his leather gloves. 

"Jason, I was here a while ago and helped sort out an... incident, but things should be fine now... or at least better. My good friend Sabal is in charge, and I have complete faith that he-" The bus hits a rough bump and Ajay raises his head. Directly in his sight is the divine Kyra statue, so coveted by Sabal, now covered head to toe in the blood of what appears to be citizens of Kyrat. The smell of burning flesh hits his nose, making him aware of the burning bodies next to the tarnished form of Kyra. The flames burn brighter in the distance as a faint figure in blue and yellow throws something else onto the pile. The rest of the words turn to ash in Ajay's mouth.

Jason fumbles for his phone, having almost dropped it in the motion from the bus. He breathes out a sigh of relief and looks at Ajay again. A familiar smell reaches him, but he can’t quite place it... He quirks an eyebrow at his fellow journalist’s expression. Huh. Not a lot could make Ajay react like that… He snaps his fingers in front of his friend’s face, only to have his hand batted away. “Hey, Ajay, buddy what are you….” Jason trails off as he looks over his shoulder, then quickly turns his whole body. “Oh shit!” A pulse of something white hot burns through to the core of his very being... The sight of the blood, the sweet smell of burning flesh… It brings back so much he thought he had buried… Old Rakyat drums beat in the corners of his mind.

The bus has stopped.


	2. Expectations

The smoke rising from the pile makes the air feel oppressive. It stings Jason’s eyes. The excited pounding in his chest refuses to go away as he stares at the carnage. He thought he had escaped all this. He’s seen war before. He’s been to dangerous places since the Rook Islands and hadn’t had this reaction. There’s just something about Kyrat. Kyrat and how far removed it is from everything. You could drag a man along one of these remote dirt roads, and there would be no one around to hear him scream… It sparks a fire that Jason had tried so hard to put out.  
  
Ajay is on his feet in a heartbeat. He grabs Jason’s shoulder and spins him around. The tone of his voice is low as he speaks. “Jason. This could get messy, knowing Kyrat. Stay here. Wait for me. If, somehow, there’s no way I’m making it back, I need you to run. Get back to the airport, and get out.” His words are cool and calculated.  
  
“That’s a stupid idea. Besides, you know me better than that,” Jason scoffs. He brushes Ajay’s hand off his shoulder and pushes past him to grab his overpriced duffle bag from the storage compartment on the bus.  
  
Ajay opens his mouth to argue, then just scowls and shakes his head. He unzips his teal leather jacket and pauses. It’s not the same as the last time he went to Kyrat, but it’s similar enough to send a bolt of familiarity through him. Ajay opens the jacket and takes out a long blade that was stashed in a hidden pocket. He runs his thumb along the side of the blade and sighs. He hopes that the man’s knife is doing it’s previous owner justice, but he feels as if that isn’t the case. He remembers when he first got the blade… staring down at the dead driver. Seeing the body crushed under the tree… the knife… Sabal’s voice crackling over the radio... _Sabal_. It’s going to be the same old song and dance, isn’t it? Ajay’s shoulders sag with anxious dread.  
  
The driver gets up as well and exits the bus. He’s immediately stopped by two soldiers in blue and yellow. They begin engaging in a heated conversation with the driver. They must be Golden Path... if they still call themselves that. Ajay corrects his own thought. Of course they still call themselves that. It was the name _Mohan_ gave them, and Sabal would do anything for _Mohan_. He surprises himself with the bitterness of his own thoughts. Is this really all Sabal’s doing? He has a hard time believing it. He’s not sure what he’s going to do if he finds out that Sabal was killed or something. A part of him, as horrible as it seems, hopes that is the case. The other part hopes this is all some horrible mistake, and that things aren’t what they seem.  
  
A shot rings out. The driver screams.   
  
Jason jumps back in surprise and draws a rust stained machete from his bag. He crouches beside where Ajay took cover. “What the hell is going on?” Jason hisses. “Seriously. What the hell happened to ‘fine or better’?” He keeps an eye on that knife Ajay has. As Ajay moves to stand up, Jason grabs his jacket to keep him down. “No, seriously. What the fuck are we doing? Game plan. Fucking talk to me.”  
  
There’s no time to explain anything as the soldiers board the bus. Ajay rips away from Jason’s grasp and leaps into action.


	3. White Noise

It’s almost too sudden.  
  
Before Jason can even hope to react, the sound of blade tearing through flesh attacks his senses.The crisp morning air is broken by a sharp tang that makes its way to the back of his tongue. Red fills his vision as he watches his friend move in a blur to the next target. It bears a familiarity... A warmth. He has to stop the grin that threatens to slice across his face.  
  
Two bodies hit the ground.

  
His head is swimming as he watches Ajay wipe the blood off his shaking hands. He’s yanked out of his trance by the piercing sound of gunfire and vaguely becomes aware of Ajay yelling his name. He shakes his head in a daze then suddenly jolts back into reality. He scrambles to grab one of the guns that the fallen soldiers dropped. His hand meets warm blood and he almost chokes on the scent. Jason sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth as he gathers his thoughts, then fires a couple shots through a window at the distant blue and yellow blurs. One drops to the ground, dead. Jason only feels a spark of that fire. He expected more. Wanted more. Needs more. He-  
  
“Fuck!”  
  
His stream of thoughts is interrupted by Ajay’s cry. He smells more blood- Ajay. He whips his head around to look at his friend, then yelps and ducks behind cover as a bullet whizzes past his head.  
  
“Jason, we need to get out of here! Hold on!”  
  
“Ajay, what are you-” Jason watches Ajay back up against the console of the bus. Blood smears across the panel as he drags his hand across it. Jason almost has no time to process what is happening as Ajay pulls a lever. Something in the vehicle releases with a crunch. There’s a sudden lurch and Jason grabs onto one of the seats. “Ajay!”  
  
Panic blossoms in Jason’s chest. He can see his friend brace himself against the driver’s seat. The bus is moving. Oh god the bus is fucking _moving_ ! Moving isn’t even the right word. Careening, is closer to what’s happening. Over the sounds of the tires rushing over the ground and the screeching of the metal undercarriage against rocky ground, he can’t tell if he’s screaming or if air is just leaving his lungs.  
  
Through pulsing adrenaline, Jason sees Ajay move in a blur, wrenching the steering wheel. It feels almost too fast to be real. The bus swerves to one side and grinds to a halt. There’s a heavy pause that hangs in the air for a moment. He can almost feel Ajay’s ragged breathing before becoming aware of his own. He takes a beat to gather his bearings. “Never- Fuck! Never do that again.”  
  
“I-” Ajay began to say something before turning his head, as if hearing something Jason missed. “Ah, shit.”  
  
Jason watches Ajay duck under the steering wheel for a moment. He can’t see what he’s doing but he can only assume-  
  
The engine of the bus purrs to life. The sound feels like an anchor in a storm of panic, bringing him back to his senses. Jason picks up on the shouting of the men in blue and yellow. Ajay gets back up on the seat and grabs the wheel. In only a moment, the bus is rattling down the path at a more controlled speed this time. Jason only feels a little bit safer, as he crawls into a seat. He knows that pursuit won’t be far behind.  
  
Ajay flicks on the radio and is met with static.

 

 

* * *

   
  
Static.

  
  
The sun reaches the highest point in the sky, bathing all of Kyrat in its warm glow. The Ghale Homestead is quiet except for the quiet crackling from Radio equipment that rests on a table. The static is only broken by tapping and a frustrated sigh. A man kneels by a tower of equipment. Things just aren’t working like they should and if he’s caught trying to get it fixed he’ll be-  
  
“Rabi Ray Rana, what in the name of Kyrat did I tell you? Turn that off, now! Now! Are you an idiot? Are you trying to get us killed?” The woman grabs the radio on the table and quickly tries to shut it off. “He could be tracking those!”  
  
Rabi spins around, startled by the sudden arrival. He grits his teeth. He had expected this reaction from her but it is _so much_ harder to deal with in person.  “There is _no_ way he doesn’t already know we’re here, Amita.” There’s a degree of resignation in his voice. “He’s got his fingers everywhere in Kyrat!”  
  
“Don’t question me! If there’s even a chance that we are safe, I am not about to let you ruin it with- with all this!” Amita gestures to the equipment on the table and slams the piece she’s holding down onto the wood.  
  
“Hey! Careful with that! If there’s anyone out there that could help us-” Rabi starts to argue, but is abruptly cut off by Amita.  
  
“No one is coming, Rana! Anyone who would help is dead or worse!”  
  
“Oh yeah? What if Yogi’s friend, Reggie, has a radio, huh? We could guide him back!” Rabi points to the miserable, drugged up form of Yogi in the corner.  
  
Yogi makes a quiet sound. He’s ignored. He wonders if they can’t hear him over the static. What static? He thought there was static. He can’t hear it anymore. He slowly props himself into a sitting position and glances around the room.  
  
“You cannot honestly believe that he is still-” Amita starts, before glancing at where Rabi is pointing, then sighs. “We cannot risk everything over one individual. You know this! Quit changing your tune to try and win this argument.”  
  
With a snort, Rabi shakes his head. “This isn’t about winning an argument! There are only, what, a handful of us left. We need as many hands as we can get, and we need them here at the homestead.” He’s a bit proud of himself for being able to stand up to Amita like this. Usually, he just cowers away. He idly wonders what gave him the confidence this time. Maybe it's the nice day... or the overwhelming feeling that nothing will get done if they just sit here. He can't tell which.  
  
“We will not have _any_ hands if Sabal catches us! You saw what he did to that fashion designer when he refused to make garments for Bhadra!” Amita makes a snipping motion with her fingers and grimaces a bit at the memory. “If he finds us, we are done.”  
  
Yogi speaks up again, a bit louder this time as he adjusts the coat he was lying on. “Look mate, I really hate to interrupt, but it seems to me like you’re on air.” He lazily flicks a hand at the machinery that rests around the table. The light in the room dips and grows cold for a moment as clouds roll over the sun.  
  
“What?” Amita looks at the radio equipment on the table with wide eyes. There’s a little red light blinking, that certainly wasn’t on before.  When did that happen? It couldn’t have been when…. Shit. She pales as the implications hit her like a truck. The cardboard box under the table chitters.  
  
Rabi jumps to his feet and walks around the table. He picks up equipment, and turns the mic around. His brow furrows. “But it wasn’t working-” He flicks it off and the light blinks out.

  
There’s an awkward cough. “If this Sabal fellow didn’t know before…” Yogi trails off and scratches the side of his head, as if expecting someone to finish the sentence for him. He looks around and frowns. “Well, he certainly knows now.”

  
  
The silence that fills the room is deafening. 


	4. Revelations

Jason finds himself wondering where the hell Ajay learned to drive as he clings onto a seat for dear life. It wouldn’t be as big of an issue if they weren’t being followed. The back window shatters from the gunfire and Jason ducks behind the chair that he’s gripping. Stupid blue trucks that handle better than a bus. He peeks out from behind his cover and fires a couple shots off, but nothing productive comes from it. He must’ve gotten a bit rusty. “Ajay, they’re catching up!” He looks towards his friend. His gaze is immediately drawn to the view outside of the front window. Oh fuck, that’s a cliff. There’s another sound that’s drowning out the roaring of the bus and the hail of gunfire. Oh. It’s him. Screaming. The screaming is completely justified in his mind as the bus violently swerves around the corner and almost fishtails off the edge.  
  
The panic he felt is a bit mitigated by the satisfaction of watching one of the blue trucks shoot off the edge of the cliff. He exhales a shaky breath through his nose and chuckles a bit. A burst of adrenaline shoots through him again, sparking him into action. Jason makes his way slowly to the fallen Golden Path soldiers still on the bus. He hopes they have what he needs. He pats the body of the first one. No dice. He goes for the second and almost falls as the bus hits a pothole. “Dammit, Ajay! Watch it!”   
  
“Shut up and let me drive!” Ajay snaps back, almost catching Jason off guard. Jason realizes he hasn’t seen Ajay this irritated in… well. Ever.   
  
He gathers his bearings quickly and pats down the other body. Bingo. He channels all his skills of riding crowded California buses and stands up all the way. He inches his way to the back window, then rips the grenade pin out with his teeth. It wasn’t nearly as glamorous as the movies made it look and leaves a plasticy taste in his mouth. Jason lobs the explosive in a perfect arc and it makes contact with the windshield of the remaining car. He takes a second to imagine the faces of the pursuers as they realize how fucked they are and smiles.   
  
The explosion drowns out the laughter that bubbles up from Jason’s chest.   
  
Jason quiets and breathes heavily as the roaring car fire fades into the distance. The manic grin is still wide across his face. He collapses into a seat and sprawls his legs out. He runs a hand through his sweaty hair and lets out a small snort. “You. You are fucking unbelievable, you know that?”   
  
“I’m choosing to take that as a compliment. Keep an eye out for more trucks.” Ajay brushes him off. His tone isn’t cold, but more…. concerned. Jason is a bit miffed.   
  
“You almost kill both of us, nearly drive us off a cliff, run into a fucking pot hole-”   
  
“It’s not like I could have avoided that without _actually_ killing us.” Ajay interjects.   
  
Jason huffs, quietly grumbling about definitely being able to avoid it. Then, he relents. “Fine. Pothole forgiven. Honestly though, what the fuck? Since when can you drive like this?” He watches Ajay tap at the radio. Nothing but white noise.   
  
“Since always. It just never came up before.” Ajay keeps his eyes on the road as he fiddles with dials. He lets a sigh out through gritted teeth. Jason watches his friend’s hand sag across the console in defeat, leaving a glistening smear of dark red.   
  
“I guess stabbing people never came up either- Shit! You’re injured?” It’s not a good question. Jason is on his feet in a split second and making his way to the front of the bus. He almost trips over one of the bodies. He really didn’t need that right now. He’s more careful crossing over the second one. He sits back down in the seat closest to Ajay and eyes the blood-stained radio. “How bad is it?”   
  
“Nothing I can’t handle.”   
  
Jason can tell from the clipped responses and twitch of Ajay’s hand that he’s in pain. “Playing it off isn’t gonna help anything.” He grabs his duffle bag from under the seat. Of course there’s blood all over it now. Of fucking course! He opens it and starts looking for his first aid kit.   
  
“I’m not-” Ajay pauses as the white noise shuts off with a clatter and voices filter over the radio. Jason opens his mouth to say something but settles for watching the shifting expressions across Ajay’s face. Confusion. Recognition. Annoyance. Panic. It’s all there in the subtle movements. The slight quirk of his brows so they furrow more than usual…. The way his lips press together like that… He’s learned to read Ajay pretty well through the small intricacies. He’s a little bit proud of himself. He wasn’t even paying attention to the radio, but the static is back.   
  
Ajay lets out a sigh. “We have a destination now. We need to get there as soon as we can. People I know- knew- are in danger.”   
  
There’s a long pause and the bus rolls to a stop. Ajay gets to his feet and opens his backpack to look for something. Jason beats him to it and retrieves a pair of binoculars from his duffle bag. He holds them out to Ajay.   
  
Ajay hesitates for a second before taking them.  “Thanks.”   
  
“‘Course.” Jason can’t help but smile a bit. He watches Ajay look out over the hill. There’s a moment of silence. He feels comfortable in an odd way. Like this is where he’s supposed to be. It’s strange to him but he’s happy. He finally feels a sense of belonging that he hasn’t experienced in a long time.   
  
“There’s an outpost. We can’t go this way.” Ajay speaks up and hands the binoculars back.   
  
Jason takes a peek through the binoculars at where Ajay had been observing. A grin breaks out across his face. “Not with that attitude, we can’t. Besides, we don't have much time and you're bleeding pretty bad... Watch this.”   
  
It’s almost as if Ajay realizes just how much blood he’s lost. He puts a hand to his injured shoulder and sits down in one of the seats. “Just…. Please don’t get us killed.”   
  
Jason takes the wheel.


End file.
